


The Way It Is

by Michinokao



Category: Naruto
Genre: Adultery, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dubious Consent, Dubious Morality, F/M, Fix-It of Sorts, Fugaku's overworked, Team Bonding, Team as Family, Uchiha Massacre, Unplanned Pregnancy, ninnezumi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-10
Updated: 2019-02-05
Packaged: 2019-10-07 18:37:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17371214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Michinokao/pseuds/Michinokao
Summary: Uchiha Mikoto had been a desperate woman – lonely and longing for love even if it’s just a single night with another man. Sasuke inherits his mother’s looks but there’s neither a Sharingan nor the following Curse of Hatred waiting for him. Instead, there are heightened senses and longer than normal canines that both don’t seem to be Uchihan traits at all.





	1. Descend

****_I am sorry, Sasuke._

He comes home; it’s rather early morning than late night when he staggers drunkenly into the bedroom. She doesn’t wake up because she’s been awake from the start. Fugaku groans when his heavy, still fully clad body hits the mattress. She holds her breath for a few seconds. Will he just let her go once? Has he finally drunk himself into unconsciousness? Has work caught up with him too much to touch her? Please, she thinks heavily swallowing, please... _please_...

Luck isn’t on her side. Not this night, not the nights before and maybe it won’t ever be hers in this matter. She should feel delighted when his rough hands drag her shivering form to his side. There had been a time, long, long ago, where she would have giggled and indulged in his needs. Back then, things had been different.

Mikoto had loved him dearly back then. Oh, well, her chest hurts so much that she has to correct herself – she still loves him. Uchiha love far too strong for her not to still feel it in her chest. Nowadays, though, instead of giving her the impression of flying while remaining on the ground, Mikoto’s love has grown sharp and slightly twisted.

She loves him when he tightly grabs her behind. She loves him when he turns her around and slams into her without any preparation. She _definitely_ loves Fugaku when the man treats her like she’s his personal meat to fuck and nothing more than that. Mikoto loves her husband so much she can just stare dead-eyed at the opposite wall while he spreads his seed inside her. A few days ago, Fugaku had been so harsh on her that she had unintentionally activated her Sharingan. She now knows every crevice and every stain on that once starkly white wall.

He goes limp. Turns around. Mumbles something incoherent. Falls asleep. Will probably not remember anything in the morning. Mikoto swallows once more as hot liquid slowly pours out of her abused hole. She doesn’t care about the inevitable patch that the ordeal will leave on the navy blue duvet cover. A bitter smirk, one she has seen on countless other Uchihan faces, forms on her lips. She’s the one who has to wash them anyways. She’s the only one who has the right to be outraged should it not come off.

Alas, she doesn’t care and falls asleep with a barrier made of pillows between her and her alcohol-scent covered husband.

In the morning, she gets a hasty peck on her cheek – a goodbye because Fugaku is the clan head and as such, he has many duties. Mikoto tries not to feel the hatred bubbling up her throat. _“You dare use me like that and not even give me a proper kiss? You_ dare _?!”_ she wants to ask in her coldest voice – the one she used when she had been a top kunoichi.

Itachi walks into the kitchen. She composes herself. She is the clan head’s wife. She had been in ANBU for years. Something like that won’t sour her mood... not in front of her sweet son.

“See you later.” Mikoto answers belatedly. Fugaku doesn’t even notice her curt hesitation. He nods and then trots out of the house, leaving her behind with a throbbing heart.

°°°

“Mikoto-chan? Uchiha Mikoto-chan?”

She blinks and looks up from her book. The evening is beginning to darken and she would have closed it soon anyways. Itachi sleeps over at Shisui’s today. It’s her day, a day for just herself and nobody else... well, that’s to be expected when your only friend is being busy with her new boy toy who’s coincidentally also nominated as the Fourth Hokage.

Mikoto sees the clan markings and the animalistic tint to the toothy grin. She tries to recall somebody ever smiling that brightly at her and sadly fails. Her son’s smile is demure in nature and Fugaku isn’t how he used to be before he has taken up his position.

The Inuzuka in front of her seems really familiar. From the way his wild hair tilts to the right and how cracked his pale lips are.  
The ninken at his side is also a dead giveaway.

“Kegawa-kun?” she asks disbelieving. Inuzuka Kegawa had been in her Academy class and was, for the lack of better description, an ugly duckling. Many girls had compared him to the Akimichi because his size had been unfortunate that way. Mikoto was one of the few who didn’t bully Kegawa.

He nods enthusiastically and falls down next to her on the wooden bench. She musters him, discreetly of course, and has to fight down a blush. The Uchiha can hardly associate the pudgy boy with his hard-muscled and incredibly attractive adult self.

“Maa, how many years has it been? Fifteen, sixteen? God, you’re still beautifu- ah, ah, I mean, I... I’m just going to shut up now, right?” Kegawa does that _thing_ he always used to do when he’d been embarrassed – hiding his nose behind his hand, making it look like it’s a paw rather than a human appendage. The black and brown dog at his side mimics him instantly and Mikoto can’t help but giggle softly.

“Fifteen years and you’re still chagrined by everything.” she says teasingly. Kegawa looks up and pouts childishly. She shouldn’t find it as endearing as she does.

“And you?” he asks, “Still pining after Fugaku?”

She holds up the hand where her wedding ring shines brightly in the diminishing sun.

“What, really?!” he gasps and promptly ruffles her hair until she’s sure it sticks up to all sides.

“Wha...?” she just manages to utter, too surprised by the sudden assault to say anything more diligent.

Kegawa grins widely again. It has been a while since anyone has been so excited for her, Mikoto muses. The man next to her tells her earnestly: “I’m so glad for you! I’ve seen you five years after our graduation and he still seemed so clueless! That’s why I was a bit worried when I saw you here alone. But... that you’re married...” he breaks off and the smile becomes something a lot softer. Mikoto’s cheeks heat up slightly and a small pulse of longing courses through her body.

Nights after nights she has been treated like a toy. Days after days she has been practically ignored.  
She catches herself before she can do something stupid and forces herself to smile back. It’s not hard. Kegawa makes her want to smile.

Pāpurusuke, Kegawa’s trusty companion, sniffs her legs and demands for a pet after he deems her worthy. She’s glad for the temporary distraction and begins combing with her fingers through the soft fur.

She hears Kegawa chuckling. She doesn’t know why it’s so easy to fall into a comfortable silence with him. The silence between Fugaku and her is useless – could easily not be there at all but every time she decides to start a conversation, she always gets “Hn”s and occasional one or two-liners. Mikoto suspects that if she now starts talking, Kegawa will be animatedly talking back and cracking jokes or answer her as eager as a pup. The knowledge alone makes her want to flee home because if she doesn’t, she can’t guarantee that she doesn’t do something utterly dumb.

Why is she even considering something like that? She loves Fugaku, always has... only... only somebody she hasn’t seen in years seems more appealing at the moment than her husband.

Kushina would probably tell her to “Make that fucker see that you aren’t there for granted” and that “The fart can pull his stick out of his ass and start treating you right before you leave him!”.  
Mikoto’s best friend is pretty unconventional that way.

“Mikoto-chan, is something wrong?”

She inhales and exhales deeply before looking up. “Everything’s fine. Do you want to go to the new bar in the civilian district?”

Mikoto doesn’t mean for it to lead to anything drastic. She just wants to have fun once in a while. And if it’s with an old classmate of hers, who is there to judge? Fugaku’s too busy, Itachi’s with Shisui and the elders of the Uchiha clan can piss off.  
Kegawa barks out a stunned “Yeah, sure!” and then they both head off with dusk’s wonderfully orange-red-dark blue coloured sky in their backs.

°°°

His dry lips grace her body and it feels like heaven. A part of her fuzzy mind screams at her to stop before she truly commits such an heinous act but a much larger part, the one that’s in control right now, lets Kegawa worship her neck. He’s just as drunk as she is. Unhinged, they’re both far away from reality.

With unsteady fingers, Mikoto caresses some stretch marks on the man’s stomach. He sobs in reply, as if there’s never been anybody else to do so. Perhaps there hadn’t. Mikoto doesn’t mind, only pulls the Inuzuka’s mouth towards hers for a longing, heated kiss.

Their tongues intertwine. His is clumsy and untrained while hers is unused to such endeavours after months of Fugaku’s neglect. This is the shittiest moment for Mikoto to remember all the times she had tried to talk to her husband – all the times he had cast her away as if she’s some foolish little girl.

“’Koto-chan?” Kegawa mumbles confusedly and drunk as hell, “’Koto-chan, dun cry!” He pulls her in a hug, in the middle of making out, and Mikoto vaguely thinks he’s the weirdest lover she’s ever had. Breaking up the lust for cuddling – who the hell does that?, she thinks and cries just a tad harder. Her hands cling to his back and suddenly she’s right in his lap with her chest pressed against his.

Kegawa whispers some nonsensical but comforting words into her ear. His callused fingers draw circles over her naked back. She claws, clings, cowers and cries at the same time. And Kegawa, with his stupidly lovely voice and self-inflicted scars littering his arms in rows, pulls her so close that nothing could fit between their bodies.

He whines when she catches herself and begins rubbing his clothed junk.

Stupid, whatever she’s doing she should stop.

She doesn’t.

Their love making is so tender that it can’t be called sex. It is _love making_ indeed, breathless and filled with carefulness. Kegawa’s pupils are blown, muddy brown nearly completely vanished. The fact that she’s the one doing this to him has Mikoto deliriously happy. It’s been a long time since her body has felt on fire with desire and lust.

She reaches her orgasm earlier than he does by a couple of seconds. He follows her suit, doesn’t pull out. Must be an Inuzuka thing, her muddled mind muses without catching the implications of it. Mikoto’s facing Kegawa when he sinks down right beside her. With Fugaku, there’s a rift in between their bodies. With Kegawa, there’s shared warmth and shy explorations of skin during the afterglow.

Mikoto falls asleep with a relaxed smile gracing her features. Kegawa thinks she looks like an angel.

°°°

When she comes home, it’s four in the morning. Her husband hasn’t arrived yet – it has to be one of the worse days – and for once, Mikoto’s relieved.

She’s still somewhat shocked at what she’s done. She can’t deny the pleasure she has received, no, that wouldn’t be fair towards Kegawa. Instead, she uses old ANBU tactics to keep her from getting panicked. Compartmentalization has made her a ruthless killer and although she had sworn she’d never use it outside of her corps, she has to break that promise for now.

Otherwise, she’d go insane.

Mikoto sighs. She had to put Kegawa into a genjutsu; had to activate her Sharingan even, and had sealed away his memories of meeting her on that godforsaken bench. Ah. She shouldn’t regret it. She can’t undo it – so she must move forward without looking back.

She takes a hot shower to wash away any lingering proof of her acts. Kegawa had been nothing but gentle and there are no visible marks littering the places he touched.  
He’s so unlike Fugaku that she wants to laugh at the irony of it. She’s had better coitus with a near stranger whom she’d known years ago, a chunin at that. Skill-wise she matches her husband’s, however, that doesn’t help them in bed, does it?

Mikoto had slept with an Inuzuka and immensely enjoyed it. Now she can’t quite hold back the amusement from slipping out of her mouth. What would the clan elders say? They hate the animalistic clan’s guts! She clutches her stomach, still senselessly giggling in mirth.

Fugaku opens the front door at six in the morning, two hours before he’ll leave her again. He fucks her. She desperately refuses to compare Kegawa and him. Mikoto knows who would lose and isn’t it sad that it’s not the Inuzuka?

Itachi is confused that night. He has woken up because of his mother’s laughter ringing through the hallways. Why is she laughing? Well, he isn’t one to deny his mother happiness. As of late, she had been looking rather ill... he falls asleep again and sleeps better than ever.

°°°

“Fugaku, dear? I’m pregnant.”


	2. Crescendo

_You probably hate me just as I've told you to._

Uchiha Sasuke is born looking like his mother. Mikoto holds in the sigh of relief but only just. Ever since it became clear to her that she’s pregnant, she’d been harbouring the fear that it could be Kegawa’s child. After all, Fugaku has used no condoms and only managed to knock her up once... then, when she had slept with another man all of a sudden she’s pregnant? It had made her instantly suspicious.

However, Sasuke (and it’s ironic that his name has –suke in it like Pāpurusuke, Kegawa’s ninken) is a carbon copy of herself. It doesn’t matter who the father is, she tells herself.

Until she can’t tell it to herself any longer.

Three days after his birth, Sasuke is examined by one of the few Uchihan medical-nin who specializes in the chakra pathways behind their eyes.   
The medical-nin starts with a careful expression and ends up with a frown.

“Is something wrong?” Fugaku immediately asks, concerned for his offspring.

The man in white exhales and says with a surprisingly sensitive voice: “I’m sorry, Fugaku-sama. Young Sasuke’s chakra pathways are not developed like an Uchiha’s, I’m afraid.”

“What does that mean?” Mikoto demands although she already knows what the answer will be.

“He will never develop his Sharingan.” Fugaku looks shell-shocked, “I believe it is due to a genetic defect. However, his other chakra pathways are just fine. While he won’t be able to activate his Sharingan, he can be a great shinobi nonetheless.” The last sentence, Mikoto muses faintly, is just to console Fugaku. A clan head’s second son without the Sharingan sounds preposterous. But it will be their reality.

She surprises herself with how little she cares about it.   
After all... no Sharingan also means no Curse of Hatred to activate it... at least she hopes it does.

Fugaku refuses to come out of his office for three days. Eventually, he mans up and accepts his second son the way he is.

Itachi, however, instantly loves his otouto.

°°°

Sasuke loves nature. Itachi oftentimes wonders what his little brother sees when he looks around in awe. The smaller boy dislikes being carried and grows tired of it after a few minutes. He’s restless, energetic and likes to run in the forest.

Shisui naturally jokes about Sasuke not being an Uchiha – no Sharingan, no demureness, no restraints. If it weren’t for his looks, Shisui had once said with an impish smirk, he’d have mistaken Sasuke for an Inuzuka.

Itachi doesn’t pay those remarks any attention at first. Why should he? He’d been the first one to hold his otouto after his mother. Of course Sasuke’s an Uchiha.   
But... as time flies by and his younger brother’s face begins developing more animalistic traits such as canines and a tiny bit more slitted eyes, he finds it more and more believable.

Slap on Inuzuka clan markings and you’d get a perfect mix between the two clans – coloured like an Uchiha and featured like an Inuzuka.

Itachi’s eleven years old when he finds an old photograph of his mother’s genin class. There’s an Inuzuka who resembles Sasuke greatly if you imagine him thinner.

He sits eerily still on the cold hardwood floor for almost an hour. He doesn’t take his gaze off of the photograph either. He stares and stares and stares... and then he asks himself why his mother had laughed in the middle of the night all those years ago.

Itachi finds that he’s probably not going to like the answer to that question. So he never asks. Sometimes, he can see his father’s calculating eyes roaming over his otouto.

Perhaps Fugaku’s also afraid he’s not going to like the truth.

Uchiha, Itachi decides after he securely puts the photograph under a loose wooden tile in his own bedroom, are very good at pretending that nothing’s wrong. Scarily good.

°°°

“I wanna have a cat!”

“No, otouto. You can’t have a cat.”

“Then I wanna have a dog! Or a bunny! Or a snake! Snake’s are cool!”

Itachi shakes his head in amusement. He affectionately ruffles his brother’s wild hair that sticks up especially to the right and says: “Father would rather eat a shoe than allow us to have either one of those.” Fugaku hates animals.

Sasuke pouts. “But there’s that boy in my Academy class, Kiba, and he’s got a dog. He even takes him to lessons. Not fair that I can’t have one!” he whines and just for moment, Itachi wishes he’d love his brother a bit less.

“...alright. You can have a small pet.” When Sasuke excitedly perks up, his brother holds his hand up to hush him, “a _really_ small one. Like a hamster or a mouse. You have to take care of it and it can’t openly run around in the house. If you do well with it, you can even train it as a nin-animal if it’s compatible.”

Of course the six year old boy doesn’t hear anything past “You’ll get a pet.” Itachi sighs in exasperation but also in fondness. Sometimes, his otouto is such an Inuzuka it hurts.   
Ah, that doesn’t mean he’s not an Uchiha as well. Itachi’s seen the potential and he shudders when he thinks about what Sasuke will be able to do in a couple of years with both of his clans’ ancestries.

He might not have the Sharingan but he’s already showing a far more developed sensory system than an Inuzuka should at this age. Not to mention his awareness and intelligence when they’re not overridden by instincts...

Itachi walks with his little brother to an animal shelter that day.

He doesn’t regret the decision to let Sasuke have a pet when he sees how awestruck the younger Uchiha cradles the black rat in his palms.

“Do you already have a name for it?” the elder asks with a soft smile.

Sasuke hums in agreement. “Tomato” he whispers ominously, as if he has revealed some hidden kept secret only he had known of. Itachi holds back a snort and just nods, humouring his otouto’s antics.   
“Tomato is quite a good name” he says while thinking the exact opposite.

Their father buries himself in his office again for three days straight after noticing the cage with an innocent looking rodent blinking up at him.   
Their mother, though, does nothing about it. Absolutely nothing. Itachi takes it as proof of his theory.

°°°

Tomato, Mikoto dares to think, fits perfectly into the family. Sasuke carries it around constantly in his wide collar from where it sticks out its head, cutely looking around before vanishing from outsiders’ sights again.

The rat is unusually perceptive and always sits at the table when they’re having dinner, to Fugaku’s ire, and eats pieces of Mikoto’s home-cooked meals. Just like a tiny clan member. Tomato’s fur and eyes are even coloured in the well-known Uchihan colour palette (well, black and black).

The only downside to Sasuke’s pet is Mikoto’s sudden fit of nostalgia. She shouldn’t think about Kegawa nowadays. She hardly ever left the compound after Kushina’s death... and maybe, just a tiny bit, she’s been afraid he’d see her again and try to talk to her.

Of course he doesn’t remember their meeting eight years ago but she can’t risk Fugaku figuring out who the man is that fathered Sasuke. Oh, clearly he’s noticed her unfaithfulness and surely, he’s having assumptions which may or may not be true in this matter. However, as long as she doesn’t meet anybody else outside of the compound, he can’t link Kegawa or the Inuzuka to Sasuke. Not with any proof at least unless he demands a fatherhood test. That’s not really a possibility either, seeing as it would kill the trust the clansmen have in their leader and his wife.

Mikoto hangs up the bedding on the clothesline, hearing Kegawa’s slurred “Koto-chan” repeating itself over and over in her head. On days like these, when Fugaku’s just as inattentive of her as he’d been a near decade ago, she wonders what could have been. Her hair flutters in the windy afternoon breeze. Fugaku won’t come home until late at night or early in the morning, she feels it in her bones, and while he may treat her better nowadays, he’s still too quiet and too aloof to fill out the second space in her heart.

An Uchiha’s love is clingy, just shy of being unbearably suffocating and it _aches_. For others, the concept of falling in love in a single night might be ridiculous but for an Uchiha, it’s a cruel reality.

The woman feels her heart ache. She knows why she hasn’t been confronted by her husband.

He probably sees Mikoto’s suffering and thinks of it as a punishment. Uchiha are also madly good at seeking revenge.

°°°

The tension between the clan and Konoha thickens. Sasuke sees his brother’s face grow gaunt and his smiles vanish. He hears Itachi’s muffled screams when he can’t sleep.   
Shisui is dead.   
And Sasuke’s world is suddenly tinted in a hovering madness that threatens to blaze through the district like a thunderous tsunami wave.

In hindsight, he has felt the massacre coming closer as if it were a music piece’s crescendo, building up from the moment of the Kyuubi’s attack.

°°°

That day, Tomato is unusually irritated. Sasuke can barely keep him from running away and he as well feels a churning sensation in his gut. His hackles are raised but he nevertheless stays at the training ground until it’s late.

He tries to soothe his nerves by asking himself random questions. What has mom cooked for dinner? Will aniki play with him in the garden afterwards? Is dad going to be proud of his accomplishments?

Sasuke comes home.

There is blood, _blood_ , **blood** everywhere – red, sickeningly scattered over uchiwa in an insane mockery.

His eyes widen when the smell finally hits him. The smell, oh god, the _smell_. What the hell is going on?! Sasuke's body hits the ground shivering. He barely registers Tomato jumping out of his collar, squeaking in panic, trying to alert Sasuke to the figure that stands in front of the cowering boy.

“Foolish little brother” Itachi says that night, “if you wish to kill me, then hate me, detest me, curse me, and survive in an unsightly way. Run, run and cling to your pitiful life.”

Sasuke doesn’t run. Sasuke collapses.

And there is no hatred, not for Itachi. There is pain, so, so much pain, and despair.

He wishes he could hate his brother.

But instead, he hates himself.


	3. Silence

_Even if you don't, I hate myself enough for the both of us._

They want him to live at the compound. They want _him_ – Uchiha Sasuke, the last of his kind, who saw his parents and other clan members lying dead and scattered around – to inhabit the very same four walls that are burnt into his memory as painted red by his relatives’ blood. Sasuke doesn’t understand them. Don’t they have families as well? Can’t they comprehend just how difficult the situation is for him? Are they even _thinking_ at all?!

Somehow, the young boy doesn’t believe so.

His wide eyes look at the old man who sits in front of the hospital bed where he’s been burying himself for the last few days and nights. Sasuke’s mouth is slightly agape and words keep wanting to form but the shock is too deep for them to truly sound in the room that’s completely quiet apart from his stuttering in- and exhales.

“I know it must be hard for you. However, the law states that Uchiha have to remain living in the compound.” the old man – the fucking leader of this godforsaken village – says and has the nerve to convey sympathy in his tone.

Sasuke’s mouth closes. Vaguely, as his dark circled eyes focus on his hands which are gripping the light blue sheets tightly, he can feel Tomato’s nose bumping his cheek. But Sasuke doesn’t register his rat’s questioning action. He falls. He keeps on falling. Ever since he’s picked up on his clan’s unhappiness, the boy has been steadily approaching a cliff. The massacre has been as if Itachi’s hands were shoving him cruelly over the edge.

He thought he had already hit rock bottom.

Turns out, he’s still mid-air.

“Are you...” his voice is raspy and squeaky at the same time, “...are you **fucking** serious?!” The Hokage draws in a sharp breath at the curse.

Sasuke doesn’t care. Sasuke wants to sleep. Wants to see his brother and throw stones at him until Itachi spits out the reason why he killed his own family.   
He is past his breaking point. His black orbs draw into slits and as he snaps his head back up, he can’t help but _snarl_ as he continues: “My brother, my own BROTHER _murdered_ **MY CLAN. That was MY PACK and he** _slaughtered_ **them.** AND YOU WANNA SHOVE ME INTO THE COMPOUND WHERE I SAW AND **SMELLED** THEIR _BODIES?!_ ARE YOU CRAZY, YOU DUMB OLD CUNT?!”

Sarutobi Hiruzen tries to intervene: “My boy –“

Sasuke cries: “ **YOUR** BOY? WHAT THE FUCK GIVES YOU THE RIGHT TO CALL ME THAT, HUH?! Tell you what. If you send me there, I will be gone by tomorrow. I’m gonna go rogue. If you honestly think you have the right to put me back there, I say **FUCK KONOHA**. Then I’m fucking go-hone, y-you he-hear me?” His small body shakes as sobs he’s barely been able to hold back wreck it. Angrily, he swipes away his tears but they won’t stop. The Third sighs exhaustedly and Sasuke thinks he shouldn’t be allowed to sound so worn when _he_ ’s the one hurting.

“I-I’m go-ho-honna burn Konoha d-down if you put me t-there...!” Sasuke threatens but it comes out weak and tired. Tears are spilling on the blanket even though his hands harshly rub his eyes until they’re red-rimmed.

“Alright.” the Hokage states gently, “I will speak to the council and try to find a suitable accommodation. There’s no need to defect, my... Sasuke-kun.”

Sasuke hugs himself and draws his legs close. Tomato hastily jumps onto his head before he gets squashed by the boy’s body. “A-Anywhere else. Please, please... just... not there.” he mumbles, just loud enough for the Hokage to hear.

“Well, very well.”

The Hokage slowly heaves himself from the uncomfortable chair, wearily rubbing the bridge of his nose. Thrice it has been broken so far, the nose that is, and he has no doubt Sasuke would have made it four times if he weren’t mentally as well as physically unable to from the circumstances. The old man leaves and tries not to listen to the boy’s heart-wrenching sobs through the white metal door but it isn’t easy. Nothing ever is.

“Danzo, why?” Hiruzen asks without uttering a single word, “Why, my dear old friend? Why is it that you play Hokage and _I_ am the one carrying the consequences of your actions?”

Something like the Uchiha massacre shouldn’t have taken place. Never, not even once, should the thought of such a drastic measurement have occurred without there even having been proper peace talks. Lord Third walks out of the building, neither his feet nor the robe that’s dragging on the ground making any noise as he approaches the Hokage tower.

His mind is still focused on the last Uchiha’s words.

 _“That was my pack!”_ Pack, huh? What an odd phrasing for an Uchiha... incidentally too weird to let go. Placing Sasuke with the Inuzuka, sadly, isn’t an option as Tsume has had more than one grievously harsh spat with Fugaku and the woman can be incredibly stubborn when it comes to letting go of the past.

But where else could a child as influential and at the same time fragile be sent without causing more harm than good? At first, Hiruzen has believed – and also wished, as horrible as it sounds – that young Sasuke would be set on a path of revenge which meant nothing could bring him down from it, not the Hokage and certainly no kind words. Alas, that’s seemingly not the case. If Hiruzen can’t provide Sasuke with a place the boy can grow fond of, it’ll be on his cap if shit hits the fan and Sasuke, indeed, becomes a missing-nin.

He curses Danzo wholeheartedly. His back protests when he lets himself fall onto his cushioned bureau chair. The pain hardly matters with a case as important as this one on his hand.   
The orphanage doesn’t usually accept clan children - however decimated said clan may be... Naruto had been a special case there, as he always is. Also, sending a child who has had parents into a territory with children who are ridiculously bitter about not having them would result in awful spats. In short: If he really wants to make a missing-nin out of Sasuke, he will gladly put him there.

Hm... What if...? Ah, yes, this could work.

It must work – it just has to.

With a plan in mind, Hiruzen calls for Kakashi who promptly appears out of nowhere at his side. “Bring Naruto to me.” the Hokage orders.

°°°

“I’m Sasuke.”

“Uzumaki Naruto – I’m gonna be Hokage, believe it! Come in, there’s a bed for ya and jiji gotcha a toothbrush and he even brought some stuff from your old room. Haven’t touched tha’ yet but ya can put it ‘way into the empty drawers. Yosh! Emptied them for ya, believe it! Eh...” Naruto’s face scrunches up, whiskers pulled by the frown when he realizes the mess on the floor which is _coincidentally_ right in front of the mentioned emptied drawers, “...might have’ta think ‘bout where all my stuff goes. Ah, but don’t’cha worry for now – I got ramen for you from Ichiraku’s. Ya ever been there? It’s amazing, I tell ya. C’mon, Sasuke, we gotta eat and then we gotta pack out yer stuff!”

Sasuke stands ramrod still in the middle of the apartment (an apartment he is going to share with Naruto from now on) and he’s, quite frankly, a little bit shocked at his roommate’s energetic behaviour. What is he supposed to do? Tomato blinks a couple of times too because he’s been with Uchiha all of short life. They weren’t like Naruto. Not at all.

The boy and his rat come out of their frozen states when the whiskered blond tilts his head questioningly. Sasuke stutters out an unsure: “O-Okay?” and he isn’t entirely sure whether it’s the right answer but when Naruto beams brightly at him, eyes closing into happy slits and cheeks slightly dusted in red, the last Uchiha thinks it’s good enough.

Ichiraku’s ramen, interestingly, tastes like sunshine... or maybe it’s just Naruto whose stories soothe Sasuke’s aching and terrified mind.

“Jiji told me ya had parents. How has that been?”

Sasuke swallows the mouthful of noodles and looks at the blond. Whatever he finds there, it is definitely not mockery.   
“Nice” he says because he doesn’t know what Naruto wants to hear, “They were nice. Mom was great. She... she used to cook.”

“Cook? Was her food as good as Ichiraku’s?” the blond wonders, looking as if he couldn’t quite believe it.

Sasuke huffs amusedly. “Better! She would bake sometimes too. Her tomato bread was... it was really...” he breaks off, biting his bottom lip. It shouldn’t feel so hard, talking about his mother’s tomato bread. Those are good memories, Sasuke reprimands himself, he should cherish them and not cry when he thinks about his mother’s kind smile when she patted him on the head.

He should really not cry, not when Naruto’s there. Naruto’s a stranger – and he’s been an orphan since birth. Sasuke should really... he should really...

“Ah, jeez, I messed it up, didn’t I?” the other boy asks hesitantly, “Okay, let’s just not talk about that! Wassup with the mouse? What’s its name? Why do ya have a mouse?”

Sasuke bites his lip, sharp canine teeth playing with it but not drawing any blood. “He’s a rat” he croaks, “His name’s Tomato cause I like them and I wanted him cause birds and fish are stupid. I’m gonna...” the Uchiha halts, pets Tomato’s head, then declares: “I’m going to train him to become a nin-animal.”

Naruto produces a clueless voice. “Nin-animal?”

“Yeah. He’ll be a ninja just like me!” Sasuke says proudly when Tomato attempts a salute.

“Really?! Cool!” Naruto gushes and the Uchiha nearly lets out a relieved sigh when he doesn’t feel the need to bawl his eyes out anymore.   
Maybe living with the whiskered boy isn’t going to be half bad...

°°°

...It’s not Naruto he’s having problems with. A couple of nights go by without any disturbance – the distraction of moving to another place catches his nightmares like a fisher net before they have the chance to torment him. When everything settles, though, and the smell of Naruto’s apartment fills with his own unique family scent, that’s when things start heading downwards again.

Naruto’s a heavy sleeper, luckily. Sasuke wouldn’t know how to explain why he’s gasping for breath in the middle of the night because his disoriented mind believes his nose picks up Itachi’s scent. Sometimes his otherwise incredibly sharp vision twists chairs and coats into vague shapes that faintly resemble his brother.

He wants to claw his own eyes out and cut off his nose when his body yet again fails to notice his security. And, by all that’s mighty, he does pick up on the ANBU guards just outside of his new home during the day. With terrors clouding his senses he can’t do so at night after he wakes up from a horrifying dream but he bets they’re still nearby and watch over Naruto and his apartment.

Sasuke rubs his forehead in irritation as phantom fingers poke the exact same spot over and over and over. Disgust coils around his intestines like a snake or a mean worm, stirring up the ease of the gone by day. There are some small containers of cup ramen in the cupboard, Sasuke knows, and thus he finds himself eating cheap noodles at two in the morning without any lights on apart from the red ciphers of the microwave’s inbuilt clock glaring at him.

Food can stifle the hatred he feels at himself for not detesting Itachi, if only barely.

It has to do, Sasuke thinks. He closes eyes that have lost the majority of their childish bright wonder.

It has to do.


End file.
